Without the use of the slow-moving sub-nautic, their journey was long and arduous. From their chronometers, a full week passed, stopping only for them to grab their wrapped, freeze-dried rations from their packs and suckle at the nippled bottles to keep them going, but once again, they'd find themselves starving before long. As opposed to when they made their quick walks out on the dunes, they'd seen it fit to wear atmospheric helmets, meaning they'd have to be cautious not to flood them as they sought their sustenance.
Their mode of transport was the sea serpents; little more than a pair of propellers on a bar strapped to their chests, allowing them to sleep as they journeyed on through the perfect darkness of the abyss.
Any Logoruum dreaded the open seas; that primordial fear of something lunging from the darkness ahead, but like any other child of the depths, they had learned to live with the unnerve. Manta, as far away from Guy as he could, had stuck to himself for the arduous, long journey and left the lovers on his left flank - barely within visible range. He was there for muscle and an extra pair of arms should their mission require it - nothing more, nothing less.
Luna’s gray enviro suit had begun to tighten around her hips, thighs, and chest - as had her two companions’. But it still provided her with the comfortable warmth she had come to depend upon and still adjusted her buoyancy with perfect intervals.
Guy’s suit was equally gray and he now filled it far better than he used to - no longer a shambling skeleton. She so enjoyed seeing him use the rebreather rather than being stuck to kelp with those wings of his - a thought that now seemed so distant to her. Most days, their encounter had not even been on her mind, but whenever they soared around in the low-gravity vastness of water, it would return to her; that meeting. It made her feel safe - a calming memory in the darkness.
The best part of traveling with the assistance of the propellers was that one could still sleep while attached to them. All they needed to do was set a course and run the auto-piloting system and it propel them forwards in a straight trajectory, never diverting from it - even as they journeyed through vicious streams.
Guy, on his flank, was in awe. He could not remember ever having tasted the sensation of freedom, but as they zoomed over the dunes - past arches of corals, schools of polychromatic fish, and vast biomes of lifeforms his wild mind could never have conjured, he had a taste of what he had craved for so long… being free, next to Luna.
It was in those moments that his mind began to wander again - wander to a world he had supposedly never seen, far up on the surface, where he didn’t need a respirator, nor a suit to keep him alive. And inside of him, he felt something stir… something dark - something hateful. Something dangerous.
Menta was the first to stop. His large frame hung over a small, reddish peak protruding from the gray, still sands. As they approached where they imagined Sitalii should be, the beams of light had picked up a sharp decrease in microflora and plankton. By long, the shooting stars of organisms had disappeared and instead, they saw crystal clear waters around a massive, dark facility.
From outside, they might as well have been home again. The hundreds of cubical compartments welded together on stilts bored deep into the rocks shimmered with the same green that Sitabee would use to welcome them home. But something was amiss, Menta noticed, fore the lights that always lit their way into the numerous docking pools were dark. Offline.
Next to him, Guy had stopped, his eyes wide and his entire body shivering with pure, unadulterated terror. There was something in the water - something in the cold streams of air whooshing past his mask. It bit into his flesh, past glass, skin, fat, muscle, and bone - speaking to that presence in the back of his mind. In turn, the voice sent ripples of terror through Guy’s flesh; a dire warning - a promise of doom should he venture a millimeter further. He saw a pale hand grip the handle of his craft, bringing his attention to Luna. In the dim light of their distant beams, he saw that her wide, red eyes harbored the same terror he did. She… could feel it too.
They had come so far and further they had to go. Without rest, they would not survive the return. Though it broke with every fiber of sense they had, the duo pushed forwards, followed closely by the brute. They lay low on the sands, shining their lights up at the massive construct, searching for what felt like an hour for an ascension pool. Finally, they saw it - a square foramen built into the metal plating of a central canton’s underside. Menta took the lead as he saw his companions’ courage falter and quickly shot up, breaking the duo from their spell. They followed after him, up into the darkness until they saw a shimmering mirror of atmosphere and slowed their approach, drifting peacefully into the air again.
The arrival chamber was dark. Had it not been for the flashlights packed in their backpacks, they’d have never been able to see a centimeter ahead of them. They scanned the metal box and immediately recognized the design. A wall of suits and rebreathers, a repair station, and recharging docks, where several cylindrical batteries stood to charge.
Menta climbed up the stairs first and eagerly tore off his mask and rebreather, tensing his jaw to verify that his teeth were still stuck to his jaw. He did not turn to help the others, who in turn assisted one another up the ancient metal bars.
As soon as Guy and Luna were both on stable ground, they followed protocol and disengaged their face-covering equipment to stare white bulbs of terror at one-another. Guy was the first to ask: “You feel that too?”
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Luna dug around in her back without looking away from her partner, grabbing the familiar knife - the one he had used to eviscerate himself. He could almost feel the sting of the blade when he looked at it; there was likely no better weapon in the seas… save for perhaps himself. She nodded.
“The fuck you talking about?” Menta spoke, stretching his arms and made for opening the chest zipper of his enviro suit.
“Don’t. Keep it on, Menta. We shouldn’t go any further, Guy. Let’s rest up and hit the waters again; this is a bust.” She could see from Guy’s narrow eye that he was considering her suggestion. Menta, however, voiced his continued annoyance at being kept out of the loop: “The fuck are you two- talk to me!”
Guy turned to bore his remaining eye into the loud-mouthed, gigantic oaf and spoke with far more authority than was proper for his station, status, and age. “There’s something here. I can’t tell how I know and I sure can’t tell how she knows… but every bone in my body’s telling me we have to leave.” Menta crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow, and grinned as if having waited for the opportunity for years.
“What, the big, brave Guy’s scared of kelp? I know it might be hard with just one eye, but the outside’s completely bare. Fuck, I wish Sitabee looked that pristine. Commander probably got himself poisoned by some blue-red algae or something.” Guy did not take offense with having his enophthalmic status pointed out by the oaf. He carried the bandage over his missing eye with pride. Because of it, somehow, he had saved Luna - he’d do it again a thousand times if it meant saving her again.
He walked over the dark bay in silence and stepped up to the display by the door, bringing it to life with a press of his finger. With unrivaled speeds, his digits swam over the screen, bypassing shallow security measures to view the station’s darkest secrets. Luna watched over his shoulder and listened intently as he spoke: “The battery’s about twenty percent. Calculations show it’ll last for two hours if we start the system up…” A large square entitled “eject” flashed in the middle of the gray-brown display. He hovered his hand over the button and turned over his shoulder to ask: “I might be able to eject the core from here. We can pick it up outside, but… at that point, this place’ll flood in two hours. The pumps die out, the life-support’ll be defunct.”
Luna’s terror momentarily ceased its hold on the forefront of her mind. With a single press of a button, they could save Sitabee from the slow, grinding death it was facing. In so doing, however, they would be dooming this station. An unexpected voice of reason, Menta, shot in:
“The fuck are you talking about? Logos help you, you freak! There’s thousands of people living here, you-”
Guy spoke with a dire tone as he continued: “Something’s using oxygen and producing carbon dioxide, but the grow beds are idle. And the sewage system… none of it’s in use. There’s not even any gas production.” Menta hated when the two began to speak in technical terms - he had even read a book or two on mechanics just to keep up with them. But, once again, he fell short in their communication.
Luna stepped up to the display and visibly shuddered - expressing the ripple of terror she felt as the implications struck her.
“Something’s alive in here but doesn’t eat nutrifungus or shit. I…” She choked on the words, incapable of sounding the order. Guy drew in a long breath, paused, and took a moment to listen to the desperate terror at the back of his head; a voice screaming for him to depart immediately. Then… he pressed the display. Luna held her breath and turned back towards the mirror of water, awaiting some form of protest - something to sound from the station… but there was nothing. Not even the sound of a distant ejection.
“It’s stuck,” Guy muttered and drummed his fingers against the metal hull.
“You pressed it!? You fucking psycho - just because they don’t shit, doesn’t mean they’re all dead!” If he could silence the damn brute, Guy would’ve. The adrenaline was beginning to get to him, enhancing his already fringed nerves.
He turned over his shoulder and ordered: “You stay here. Get some rest and I’ll go manually eject the core.” He again started fingering the display, but before he could open the door, Luna lay a decided hand on his shoulder and sounded her objection: “Not without me, you don’t. I’ve seen the cores - all those tubes and wires and whatnots. You’ll need our hands.” She wasn’t wrong - they all knew it. Rebreathers were meant to be used in the water and there was no telling how long the life-support would keep the air clean enough to breathe once the battery ran out. From a utilitarian perspective, it would be right to bring her along… but from another, far more profound perspective… he couldn’t imagine exposing her to whatever was triggering that horror. To his dismay, it was not his decision to make.
He fingered the screen to play a recording marked with a red exclamation mark, setting the audio to follow them as they began their journey. Then, he engaged the lights and support systems, bringing the silent station back to life.
Finally, the door opened and the clicks of the recording device could be heard playing over the advanced audio-system.
When they arrived in the brightly lit hall, they might’ve been mistaken for being back home. It was all so similar, that hull plating, the drainage sump below the grate, the airlocks on every partition leading their way forwards.
“T-this is…” Whoever was making the recording was sobbing; a dreary backdrop to their cautious journey ahead.
“This is Commander Davis De Bellaris. And these are the final words of the station known as Sitalii. If you hear this message, stay put. Turn around. Leave… tell the other stations what happened here. T-tell them… Tell them to adhere to the tenets. T-tell them… T-tell them to r-run…” Guy led the way, aided by the panels showing directions only he could understand. Luna knew that look - that low brow, that mute frown… he was thinking about the machinery - its inner machinations and its functions on a level far beyond both his companions. Over her shoulder, Menta followed closely, his eyes intermittently glancing at her rounded buttocks in between his pauses to listen to the message.
“It’s not kelp. It never was. I don’t know what it is - it’s meat… like the inside of a man, just worse. A million eyes, blood-vessels; it’s as if the station’s come alive. I-it’s taken our p-people, but I can’t… I can’t press the trigger… I can’t set the charges. F-for our brethren, I should. I should eject the core and blow this place up, b-but even now I can see them… blips on the screen, movement. I don’t know if it’s them or my people… I can’t do it.”
They followed the hallway down and paused to finish the message, Guy resting his hand atop the next panel as he intently listened.
“Logos help us. This is what he warned us about. P-please… finish what I started. Two minutes. The charge is set to two minutes - activate it and run. Tell the others to fear the red kelp.” With that, another click sounded. The message was finished, just like that, still not answering their many questions.
Guy turned his eye over his shoulder and received an affirming nod from his partner, before opening their way onwards - into the bowels of the mysterious station.